Page 93 of Passions of a Wicked Earl
“If I had it to do over, I would have granted you a Season,” he said, as he trailed his finger along the curve of her cheek.
Cupping his face, she leaned up and kissed him. “But what would it have mattered? At the end of it, I still would have been yours.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I think I’ve been yours all along. I was just too silly to recognize it.”
Chapter 25
Lady Anne Cavill was slipping beneath the sheets when the door to her bedchamber burst open and crashed against the wall. With her hand to her heart, she spun around and nearly swooned at the specter of death charging through the doorway. Terror gripped her—
Then she relaxed as she recognized the intruder. “Oh, my God, it’s you. You look like hell.”
Relief swamped her because he was once again in her bedchamber. “You don’t know how glad I am to see you.”
She’d barely laid her hand against his chest, before he closed his fingers around her wrist in a viselike grip, stilling her actions. With her other hand, she tried to pry his fingers loose. “You’re hurting me.”
“You hurt Claire. She lost the babe.”
Her heart stammered. “Don’t be ridiculous. I haven’t set eyes on her in months.”
“I know what you did, Anne. You knew what had transpired on my wedding night. You were the only one I was foolish enough to tell, and you used the information to destroy what Claire and I were building.”
He persisted. “You wanted me to find her with another man. From the beginning, the ball you arranged was an elaborate ruse designed to provide an opportunity for me to find Claire with another man. But not just any man. It had to be Stephen. Otherwise, I might have given her a chance to explain. But not if I found her with Stephen. You knew my rage with him would blind me to all else.”
She thought she knew this man, but she’d never seen such fury. She jerked her arm back. “Let me go!”
But he held firm. She yanked back again, and he did as she asked. Off-balance, she fell backward and landed on the floor. He took a menacing step forward, towering over her. “I love her, Anne. I will do anything to see that she is happy. Stay clear of me and mine, or I swear before God, that I will destroy your reputation.”
She pushed herself up. “You don’t understand. I love you!”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe you know what love is. God knows until recently I didn’t. Stay away from Claire. She owns my heart. She always will.”
He turned on his heel and began to walk away.
“No!” she cried after him. “Westcliffe, you can’t leave me. You’re mine.”
He stopped in the doorway. “It’s over between us.”
He disappeared into the doorway. Uncontrollably weeping tears that for the first time in years did not appear on command, she collapsed on the floor.
He didn’t understand how very much she loved him. She loved him far more than Claire ever could. Anne would do anything. Absolutely anything for him.
“I adore your hair,” Beth said.
Claire laughed. It had been a little over a month since her fever had broken, and she still wasn’t accustomed to not having long tresses.
She was sitting on a chaise in the garden. Beth was in a chair beside her, holding her hand as though she thought if she let it go, Claire would disappear.
She and Westcliffe were having a small family gathering at the country estate. They all knew what had happened and wanted to visit. She was feeling stronger. She’d even had a couple of days when she hadn’t thought about the child she’d lost. Westcliffe had yet to make love to her. He held her every night as though she were the delicate shell of an egg. She wanted so much more. She supposed it was time to let him know.
After their company left perhaps. His mother and both brothers were here. There was not the easy camaraderie between the brothers that she would have liked to see, but nor was there the strain that had characterized their relationships until recently. She thought that, with a bit more time, they might all become the best of friends.
Leo was also in attendance. He’d decided that the portrait should be completed here. He’d found a salon he thought had the perfect lighting. Since things had improved between her and Westcliffe, Leo no longer thought that a bedchamber was necessary to accomplish his goal of playing matchmaker.
Westcliffe walked over and knelt beside her. Beth, exhibiting a bit more maturity, excused herself to give them a moment alone.
“You don’t want to overdo it with the company,” Westcliffe said.
